you get that from? That’s the most horrible idea I’ve ever come across!’ And she was off again, tittering away. ‘You don’t half come up with some barmy notions, you do.’
‘But it’s true!’ I insisted. ‘How else d’you think . . .?’
She moved closer, aware of ears flapping along the street. ‘A man kisses you a special way and then the Holy Spirit gives you a babby. That’s what really happens. Come on,’ she said, stepping out again. ‘He’ll be waiting. You keep out of sight, eh?’
‘Charming.’ I was stung by jealousy again. ‘Don’t believe me then. I just hope you don’t live to regret it.’
‘All he’s ever tried to do is hold my hand,’ she said smugly, disappearing round the corner. ‘Which is more than anyone does for you.’
‘I’ve got more bloody sense, that’s why!’ I felt like tearing her eyes out, the stupid cow.
Her voice floated round to me, mocking. ‘ Ciao , Genie.’
I peeped round the corner. Standing by the gate to the park, waiting for her, was one of the tallest, gangliest blokes I’d ever seen. His hair was curly and a bright carroty red as if his head was on fire. I couldn’t spot the Adam’s apple, but it would’ve been hard to miss the great big daffy grin on his face as Teresa walked up to him. She’d forgotten all about me, that was for sure.
When I couldn’t stand any more of Commercial Loose Leaf I got myself another new job in a little factory in Conybere Street, staining bunk beds which they made for the forces and the shelters. It was a small, dark place, all one room. On one wall there was a poster in big red letters which read: ‘F REEDOM IS IN PERIL . D EFEND IT WITH ALL YOUR MIGHT. Y OUR COURAGE, YOUR CHEERFULNESS, YOUR RESOLUTION WILL BRING US VICTORY. ’
On one side a few fellers were knocking up the beds, then they came to us to be stained before the webbing was put on. It wasn’t too bad. If it ever got a bit slack I went round and swept up or kept my hand in cleaning windows again.
‘I’ve cleaned that many factory windows,’ I told them, ‘I’m starting to think I ought to set up in business as a window cleaner.’
‘You’re like greased bloody lightning you are,’ one of the lads said to me. He had black curly hair, uneven grey eyes and his name was Jimmy. ‘Don’t you ever let up?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘Not if I can help it. Gets boring. I like to be on the go.’
‘I can see that.’ He kept watching me dashing about, throwing me the odd wink.
The other girl working with me, a stodgy blonde called Shirley, said, ‘’E fancies you. See how ’e keeps on looking over here? You’re in there, you know.’
‘In there? What’s that s’posed to mean?’
Shirley looked at me pityingly. ‘Don’t you want a bloke? I’d do anything to ’ave a bloke of my own.’
It was odd the way she said it. She might just as well have said she’d do anything to have a dog, a budgie, a house . . . But I can’t say I wasn’t flattered by his attention. I pulled the belt tight round my overall and kept my hair brushed. I couldn’t help thinking about what Lil had said about men and their willies. But then I’d go and look at a real live man – let alone these boys around me – and I couldn’t quite put the two together. I thought maybe Lil was having me on after all. It really was beyond imagining.
Every week we had a letter from Dad, who was down south, somewhere with a funny name. He said he’d started off being billeted in a barn with rats running round his head of a night, the food was abominable and he seemed to spend most of his life digging – trenches, latrines, holes . . .
He said he missed us and hoped he’d be back for Christmas, though the war showed no more sign of being over than it did of getting going.
Mom seemed a bit shaken by this news. ‘It’s funny, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘Feels as if he’s been away such a long time. I’ve got sort of used to it. As if he was never
‘But it’s true!’ I insisted. ‘How else d’you think . . .?’
She moved closer, aware of ears flapping along the street. ‘A man kisses you a special way and then the Holy Spirit gives you a babby. That’s what really happens. Come on,’ she said, stepping out again. ‘He’ll be waiting. You keep out of sight, eh?’
‘Charming.’ I was stung by jealousy again. ‘Don’t believe me then. I just hope you don’t live to regret it.’
‘All he’s ever tried to do is hold my hand,’ she said smugly, disappearing round the corner. ‘Which is more than anyone does for you.’
‘I’ve got more bloody sense, that’s why!’ I felt like tearing her eyes out, the stupid cow.
Her voice floated round to me, mocking. ‘ Ciao , Genie.’
I peeped round the corner. Standing by the gate to the park, waiting for her, was one of the tallest, gangliest blokes I’d ever seen. His hair was curly and a bright carroty red as if his head was on fire. I couldn’t spot the Adam’s apple, but it would’ve been hard to miss the great big daffy grin on his face as Teresa walked up to him. She’d forgotten all about me, that was for sure.
When I couldn’t stand any more of Commercial Loose Leaf I got myself another new job in a little factory in Conybere Street, staining bunk beds which they made for the forces and the shelters. It was a small, dark place, all one room. On one wall there was a poster in big red letters which read: ‘F REEDOM IS IN PERIL . D EFEND IT WITH ALL YOUR MIGHT. Y OUR COURAGE, YOUR CHEERFULNESS, YOUR RESOLUTION WILL BRING US VICTORY. ’
On one side a few fellers were knocking up the beds, then they came to us to be stained before the webbing was put on. It wasn’t too bad. If it ever got a bit slack I went round and swept up or kept my hand in cleaning windows again.
‘I’ve cleaned that many factory windows,’ I told them, ‘I’m starting to think I ought to set up in business as a window cleaner.’
‘You’re like greased bloody lightning you are,’ one of the lads said to me. He had black curly hair, uneven grey eyes and his name was Jimmy. ‘Don’t you ever let up?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘Not if I can help it. Gets boring. I like to be on the go.’
‘I can see that.’ He kept watching me dashing about, throwing me the odd wink.
The other girl working with me, a stodgy blonde called Shirley, said, ‘’E fancies you. See how ’e keeps on looking over here? You’re in there, you know.’
‘In there? What’s that s’posed to mean?’
Shirley looked at me pityingly. ‘Don’t you want a bloke? I’d do anything to ’ave a bloke of my own.’
It was odd the way she said it. She might just as well have said she’d do anything to have a dog, a budgie, a house . . . But I can’t say I wasn’t flattered by his attention. I pulled the belt tight round my overall and kept my hair brushed. I couldn’t help thinking about what Lil had said about men and their willies. But then I’d go and look at a real live man – let alone these boys around me – and I couldn’t quite put the two together. I thought maybe Lil was having me on after all. It really was beyond imagining.
Every week we had a letter from Dad, who was down south, somewhere with a funny name. He said he’d started off being billeted in a barn with rats running round his head of a night, the food was abominable and he seemed to spend most of his life digging – trenches, latrines, holes . . .
He said he missed us and hoped he’d be back for Christmas, though the war showed no more sign of being over than it did of getting going.
Mom seemed a bit shaken by this news. ‘It’s funny, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘Feels as if he’s been away such a long time. I’ve got sort of used to it. As if he was never
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